


Invictus

by assbuttsinlove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, a little angsty, brief cas/other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assbuttsinlove/pseuds/assbuttsinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tells Cas he can't stay so he leaves.  "Other days he gets messages from Dean that simply say I miss you, and Cas often finds himself staring at those words, his fingers gently caressing the keys until his vision is blurred.  Me too, he’ll text back.  And he means it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invictus

The tattoos become souvenirs on his skin. 

The anti-possession sigil comes first, as per Dean’s request.

He considers getting it on his chest above his heart like Sam and Dean’s but changes his mind and gets it on his back instead.  He wants it out of the way, someplace where he might even forget for a while that it even exists.  He sits in the chair and tenses his muscles for a moment as the fine buzzing sound fills his ears.  It hurts, but he clenches his fist and takes it.  It’s nowhere near as painful as the ache in his chest; the one that keeps him awake at night. 

He counts sheep and it works,  _sometimes_. 

In the next town, he gets a compass.  He likes the idea of it, of having something on his body steering him, pointing him in the right direction. With each city he visits, with each job he takes, he learns, he  _grows_. 

He calls Dean once in a while and finds himself hoping to get his voicemail instead, not wanting to hear the heaviness in the other man’s voice, the guilt, the ache of wanting him to come back home. 

Sleeping becomes easier and he doesn’t have to count sheep anymore. 

He works and he travels.  He gets more tattoos.  He misses Dean, and learns how to send text messages.  They text each other every day.  Sometimes it’s mundane things like, what he had for breakfast, or something funny that happened at work.  Other days he gets messages from Dean that simply say  _I miss you_ , and Cas often finds himself staring at those words, his fingers gently caressing the keys until his vision is blurred.   _Me too_ , he’ll text back.  And he means it. 

Someone leaves a book of poems at a diner one night and he holds onto it for a few days.  The person never comes back to claim it and so he takes it home and tosses it onto his bed.  After he showers, he curls up beneath his thin sheet and he picks up the small volume.  He falls asleep with the words of William Henley floating around in his head. 

His next tattoo is a pair of angel wings on his back, flanking his anti-possession sigil.  He wants to text Dean and tell him but he decides not to and deletes the message. 

When he tires of the diner, he packs up his small bag of possessions, including his volume of poetry, and he heads out yet again, moving to another town.  He ends up at a Gas Station where he works the register.  His boss, Nora, is sweet, and they become friends.  Sometimes, she invites him over for coffee. 

He doesn’t tell Dean. 

He finds a tattoo parlor in town and pulls out his book of poems.  Some of the weight has been lifted off his chest, and for the first time in a long time, he feels as though he can breathe.  He hands the book over to the tattoo artist and shows her the two lines that he wants tattooed around the compass over his heart. 

He misses Dean so much, it’s a steady, dull ache in his chest.  He talks to him less though, not wanting to make his longing worse.  Sometimes at night when he touches himself, he sees Dean in his mind’s eye.  When he comes, more often than not, he utters Dean's name as come spills onto his hand.  He arches his back off the bed, biting down onto his lip, enjoying the warmth of his orgasm.  He cleans himself off and falls asleep, heart thumping wildly in his chest.  

Nora kisses him one day and he kisses her back.  She’s soft and sweet but she’s not what he wants. 

He knows what he wants.  He knows  _who_  he wants.

Despite what happens between him and Nora, he chooses to stay.  He’s content and feels good for the first time in a long time. 

Three months in, the disappearances begin. 

He tries to investigate, but realizes that he’s not as good at it as he imagined himself to be.  He breaks and calls Dean.  He gives him his address and he waits patiently for him to arrive, his heart doing back flips every time the gas station door tinkles.  He waits all day but Dean doesn’t show up at the gas station. 

When he gets back to the motel, the Impala is parked outside and Dean is sitting on the hood, waiting. 

Before they discuss the case, before they say hello, before anything happens Dean pulls him in for a tight hug.  It says more than words ever could and Cas smiles.  He hooks his chin on Dean’s shoulder and for the first time, he hugs back, wrapping his arms around the hunter’s torso. 

Cas takes his hand and leads him into his room.  They end up on his bed, Cas pushing Dean back onto his pillows, straddling his hips and kissing him until their lips are pink and swollen. 

They don’t talk about the case at all that night.  Instead, Dean spends his time cataloguing each inch of Cas’ body, gasping in delight at each new addition on the man’s skin.  He runs his fingers gently along Cas’ back, kissing the two wings that flank the sigil.  His breath is warm against Cas’ skin and Cas smiles. 

“Look at you, all tatted up,” Dean drawls as they lie together. 

Cas laughs and it is a warm, throaty sound. 

Dean props up on one elbow and traces a finger along the lines of the compass on Cas’ chest.  He trails his fingertip along the words that are tattooed there as well. 

“ _I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul,_ ” Dean reads. 

Cas smiles and leans back onto his pillows.  “ _And yet the menace of the years, finds and shall find me unafraid,_ ” he says as he closes his eyes. 

“You look good, Cas,” Dean says as he slides closer to him. 

“So do you, Dean,” he whispers. 

The silence hangs heavy over the both of them and Dean searches for Cas’ hand.  He threads their fingers together and pulls Cas’ hand up to his lips where he lightly kisses his knuckles.  He frowns when he sees something on the inside of Cas’ finger.  He pries them apart while Cas struggles to keep them pushed together.  He lets out a soft gasp when he sees what it is.  The letters D.W are tattooed on the inside of Cas’ ring finger on his left hand. 

Cas blushes and pulls his hand away shyly. 

“Cas…” Dean whispers. 

“I felt better having you there,” he rumbles.  He looks over at Dean and smiles softly.  “But it feels even better having you  _here_ ,” he mumbles. 

“Who knew you’d be such a sap in bed!” Dean exclaims with a laugh. 

“Shut up, Winchester,” Cas says, nudging him with his shoulder.   

“I miss you, Cas.  I really do,” Dean says. 

“I know, Dean.”

The silence settles over the both of them like a blanket.  Dean, tired after his long drive, falls asleep on his stomach, his head pressed against Cas’ side. 

Cas has an arm flung around Dean’s shoulder and he listens to his light snores.  For the first time in months, he doesn’t sleep.  Instead he remains awake for most of the night, listening to Dean’s breath, cataloguing the little movements on his face as he rests.  He lifts up his left hand and observes the small tattoo on his inner finger.  He smiles and looks down at Dean.  He presses a soft kiss against the hunter’s head and he hums contentedly. 

It’s much better having him here, Cas thinks and Dean is warm and solid in his arms. 

Cas can think of nothing he wants more.  

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr


End file.
